lionheart
by the sun in splendor
Summary: bordertown. the second thing he tells people is that max came back last week.
1. lionheart

****_very loose inspiration taken from of monsters and men's _king and lionheart.

* * *

**Day 01.**

The first thing you see is that they cut off his hair.

It isn't a grand reunion. Nothing suddenly goes back to normal. To be honest, it's kind of terrifying- the door swings open and there he is: blood around his throat, weak-kneed and shivering from whatever he's been given. Omen looks at him like it's Christmas and her birthday, all put together, but your heart has dropped to about the level of your kidneys.

You recognize the look in his eye. You've been there, and you're scared, because it isn't a place anyone should ever have to be.

It's a conversation you'll have later, once he's asleep, but you can see that Omen is beginning to understand that this isn't an interesting, okay thing; Max being taken by the Butchers is not something they'll joke about later (R_emember that time he went missing for three days? What a laugh!). _This is going to be a bitch to fix. That voice starts up again, in the back of your head, whispering that this is your fault. You should have been more careful.

Max grabs your hand when he slides gracelessly onto the sofa, exhausted and still twitching a little. "Can you—if I start to… can you wake me up? Please." There are circles beneath his eyes, and if you look closely enough you can see the mountains of fear stacked within them.

It's nothing he hasn't promised you before, and you stay true to your word when he starts screaming three hours later.

* * *

**Day 06.**

The first thing you usually tell people is that you sleep on a sofa, and there are never less than two people on that sofa at any given moment.

The second thing, which is probably the more important thing, is that Max came home last week.

His hair is starting to grow back. For now it's still patchy brown stubble, but you tell him you'll help him dye it red when it's long enough. This is the first time you've seen him smile since he came home.

You and Omen are trying to learn how you fit around this new, fragile version of Max. You know that he sleeps better wrapped against the two of you than he does on his own, although he always wakes up early and mutters something about tea, rubbing his arms like he can wipe memories off his own skin. You know that he avoids Butcher territory like it's cursed, when he goes outside at all.

You're learning his new tells. When he's dreaming and about to cry out, his whole body tenses up. If you can shake him awake when that happens, it won't be as bad (for either of you). The third time you do this, Omen gives you a sleep-heavy smile and whispers, "You're really good with this, you know."

* * *

**Day 17.**

Max is bent over the sink, clumping dye into his hair. It's exactly the same color as before, but part of you wonders whether or not it'll ever really _feel _like the same color again.

"Should've done this over the bathtub. You're going to be the one to explain to Omen why everything's pink."

"It's not pin- _ow, _fucker, you got it in my eye!" And he's laughing, eyes tearing up, but at some point it turns into something more worthy of those stupid chick-flicks your sister used to watch. Max gets quiet, and you run a hand down his back.

"I'm sorry."

What? "No, Max, don't be like that."

"It's just—everything was finally so good, and then this happens and I can't even feel like a normal person anymore."

You laugh a little, not unkindly, and press a kiss to the side of his face. "Shut up. You're still Mad Max, magician extraordinaire. You're brave enough for all of us."


	2. child of mine

_short drabble-type 200 word thing based really, really vaguely on mcr's _i never told you what i do for a living.

* * *

The thing about the nightmares is how startlingly un-funny they are. He's never had any like these before, the sort where you wake up with your breath caught in your throat, blanket wrapped suffocatingly tight around your arms. Max would love to laugh them off, but he can't.

_he blinks once, looks straight ahead at holland. he looks for a moving chest, for signs of life, and instead sees blood and vacant eyes and he's not moving. he closes his eyes and the screaming starts again- max feels fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, and holland holland _**_holland-_**

**__**And it's over, right? Because he can feel something bubbling up in his chest, something like the ugly offspring of hatred and terror. Max pries his eyes open and tries to ignore the phantom tugging sensation in his hair. He's not there anymore. No one is hurting him. His hair's gone now, anyway, although the dreams are making him wish he could scalp himself to ensure that he never feels that _tug_ again.

Yes- Holland is still there, passed out with an arm over his eyes. No blood on his face. No bullet holes. It was nothing but a dream.

Max shudders.


End file.
